


Junebug

by mew_poo



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Burns, Gun Violence, Hurt No Comfort, I apologize for this big pile of nasty, Lightning - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Mutilation, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Please don't read if any of this makes you uncomfortable, Rape, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 01:07:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18928216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mew_poo/pseuds/mew_poo
Summary: In a way, he almost felt like laughing. The old Kyle, he realized, the one that valued justice and righteousness and wanted Kenny safe more than anything had died the day he set the first fire. And this, this burnt out shell, this was him now.





	Junebug

_Junebug, I remember everything_

_The blue carpeted floors, the tall wooden doors I held you in my arms_

_Junebug, I'd burn down a picture of a house Say it was ours, when we didn't need it anymore_

_And that was when I loved you best We were kids then_

_We shouldn't think about the rest_

 

 

“I told you to keep your big-ass nose out of it. I told you to just let it go. I FUCKING TOLD YOU THIS WOULD HAPPEN,” Craig paused, steadying himself. He paced slowly, dangerously slowly, away from the foot of the table, trailing his icy finger lightly up Kyle’s bare side and all the way to his neck. His thumb rested delicately atop Kyle’s jugular, and the rest of Craig’s slender fingers curled around to dig into the skin at the back of Kyle’s neck. Kyle felt a shock course through him, sharp and painful, causing his eyes to fling open in surprise and then quickly screw shut as his teeth gritted against the scream threatening to rip from his throat. Craig’s voice dropped to a whisper, “All you had to do was listen.”

 

Kyle KNEW, Craig didn’t have to tell him. He knew all he had to do was listen. He knew this wouldn’t have happened if he had just stayed out of it! But he couldn’t. There was no way. Not when He - Kenny - was on the line.

 

The pressure of Craig’s thumb intensified on Kyle’s throat, pinching off the flow of blood from his heart to his brain in a movement more practiced than blinking. Even with blood able to flow where it was intended, Kyle was sure it would be almost impossible to concentrate right now. From somewhere far behind his head, pitiful whimpers rose and fell like a melody of sorrow, an apology, a cry for mercy. Kyle strained his neck, ignoring the choking feeling of Craig’s hand against his vulnerable skin, hoping desperately to catch even the slightest glimpse of the boy he knew was there. Hoping that somehow, someway, Kenny would see and know that even now at the edge of his consciousness, that Kyle was still there for him.

 

Craig hissed sharply, and another jolt of electricity cracked through Kyle’s body. This time, Kyle could not stop the shout that sprang from his lungs and into the air. It reverberated against the metal walls, echoing back into his own ears. His mind blanked for a moment, and the distant question of whose voice the sound belonged to flashed past him in the blackness. It almost sounded as though two people were screaming. Then Kyle’s brain re-entered his body, and the pain hit all at once. Tendrils of searing agony rushed down his arms, his legs, through his hips and his chest and his core, and then back up to where Craig’s hand laid cooly against the blackened flesh on Kyle’s throat. Kyle’s muscles convulsed wildly, spittle gathering at the corners of his mouth as he gasped and sputtered, clinging desperately to the few strands of consciousness left within him.

 

“Aw, how sweet,” Craig said. He shook his head in mock sympathy, and let go of Kyle’s neck. For a moment he stood back, as if admiring his work. “Always so eager to play the martyr..”

 

Kyle’s vision wouldn’t focus. At this point, he wasn’t even sure if he was voluntarily slamming his eyes open and repeatedly shut, or if that was a side effect of Craig’s actions. Craig’s heavy, even footfalls retreated, heading around back of Kyle’s head. A choked noise escaped him, scratching unbearably against his rapidly tightening throat. Gods, he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t even fucking THINK. But that sound, that terrible, dreadful, soul shattering sound of Craig’s boots against the concrete floor kept him anchored to reality. Icy panic seeped into his chest, trapping him and leaving him as breathless as his traitorous lungs.

 

“K-Kenny,” it was more of a sob than a word, but it was all Kyle could manage. The sound of Craig’s boots stopped, and for a moment, Kyle wasn’t certain he had ever heard them at all. Silence. Pure silence. Not a whimper from Kenny, not a shift from Craig, and not even a breath from Kyle. For one glorious second, Kyle believed he had transcended it all. That this was finally it. No more fighting, no more running, no more anything. But bliss… bliss is fleeting.

 

A scream, panicked and terrified pierced the silence, ripping the shred of bliss from Kyle’s fingers before he could ever fully take hold.

 

 

_You'd put the moon in a basket on your bike front by the coast_

_T_ _he way your fixed it up, in pale grief you were a ghost_

_You liked to play with darkness, all the universe could give_

_I was the home you once tried to escape, the dark in which you lived_

 

 

Kenny’s scream was cut short by a hard smack across his face. His teeth rattled from the impact, and blood dribbled from a split on his lip. Craig’s hand dug roughly into his hair, pulling harshly on the blond strands until Kenny was forced to his feet. He stumbled wildly for a moment. His legs felt like jello, like he couldn’t trust them to support even his slight weight. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been allowed to stand. He barely had time to regain his footing before the hand buried in his hair yanked again, pulling him forward. He wobbled blindly, the cloth tied tightly around his eyes ensuring his disorientation.

 

He knew Kyle was here... somewhere. Kyle had come once again earlier, demanding a repeal on his and Craig’s little “agreement.” Kenny wanted to be mad. Mad at Kyle for putting them into this mess, mad at Craig for not seeking help sooner, mad at the world for allowing ANY of this to happen! He wanted to be fucking FURIOUS. Tearing him away from his family, his life, everything he had put years and years into making for himself and the people he loved. But even after listening to Kyle’s idiotic confessions, Craig’s merciless bargains, and Every. Single. Stupid decision these two had made, all he could muster was sadness. Hollow, painful sadness.

 

“You want to be a martyr so badly?” Craig said from his side, “Be my fucking guest.”

 

The cloth covering his eyes was tugged roughly away, the dim light of the room flooding Kenny’s vision and leaving him reeling. Through his hazy vision, Kenny could make out the shape of someone stretched out across a table in the center of the room. The figure as moving rapidly, jerking in uncontrolled bouts. As he slowly regained his vision, the vibrant red of Kyle’s curly hair phased into focus. His heart clenched deep in his chest. Dark purple and black marks like lightning bolts ran up and down the length of Kyle’s body. Kenny bit back a sob as he remembered how beautifully unmarred his olive skin used to be. How smooth it felt when Kenny used to run his hands teasingly down Kyle’s chest behind the school to toy with his waistband. How lovely it had tasted on those summer nights long ago when salt and sweat had clung to their skin long after the sinking sun. The electricity may as well have gripped his own heart as his eyes traced the terrible, smoldering patterns that criss-crossed his ex-lover’s skin. Bile rose in the back of his throat and a burst of dizziness momentarily threatened to overtake him.

 

“Like what you see?” Craig teased, a smirk stretching his lips. “Kyle wanted soooo badly to protect you. But-” He paused forcing a chuckle past his teeth, ice blue eyes fixing onto the bleary green of Kyle’s, “It’s interesting to see how quickly guilt eats people up.”

 

Kyle’s eyes widened just a fraction, the reality of the situation crashing into him as if he’d been struck by a freight train. He fucked up, and he fucked up BAD. “Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, and all that.” Craig hissed, boring holes into Kyle’s irises with the meaning of his words. He turned to Kenny sharply, cupping his cheek in the palm of his hand. Kenny flinched away, breath hitching in his throat.

 

“Now come on, Kenneth, dearest. Let’s show our darling Kyle how thankful you are for keeping you oh so safe before the cops show up.”

 

 

_Soon they'd find you laying there on several different homes_

_T_ _hey'd find you laying on their porches, did you need to use the phone?_

_And lure you into their rooms_

_T_ _hat was the last I heard of June_

_And that was the love I could not allow_

_Y_ _ou were beautiful then,_

_you're just a coke jaw now_

 

 

Adrenaline coursed through Craig’s veins almost as thickly as the lightning concealed within. The next few minutes were a whirlwind of motion that not even Craig himself could quite comprehend. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth indeed, he thought bitterly. He should have known better than to trust fucking Kyle of all people. Ever the hero, ever the victim! Should have fucking known that the guilt of his own actions would get to him eventually! Didn’t even matter Craig’s threats, didn’t matter that they’d all go down together, no! Kyle just couldn’t keep his god damned mouth shut, and now here they were.

 

Kyle was shoved roughly against the wall of the small room. The redhead’s skin smelled disgusting; burnt. But Craig didn’t care. His hand tangled into Kyle’s hair, slamming his head over and over into the metal as Kenny cried out behind him. He knew Kenny wanted him to stop, he knew Kyle couldn’t take much more of this, but GOD, he didn’t care. He couldn’t have been bothered to give a fuck if it was the very last thing he’d do.

 

Kyle slumped in his grasp with the next smack of his skull. His breathing was shallow, too shallow. Craig pinched his lips together, breathing hard with exertion. He tilted his head, judging, inspecting. On the side of Kyle’s neck, there was a small patch of unmarred skin, standing out sharply from the discoloration. Beneath it, Craig could see his pulse, slow and labored, only barely hanging on. He smirked to himself. Perfect.

 

Standing, he turned back to Kenny, who lay splayed obscenely across the table that Kyle had once been strapped to. He knew none of them had much time left. His eyes traced up and down Kenny’s body, the milky white of his skin dulled by malnutrition and the grime of being unwashed. A pang of something Craig assumed could be akin to regret muddied Craig’s chest as his fingers danced over the freckles dotting Kenny’s chest. His fingers twinged over Kenny’s nipple, drawing out a hint of a whimper from Kenny. Craig could see the small boy was trying hard not to cry. Trying so hard to be brave even though he knew what was coming. Kenny knew none of them were making it out of here. Kenny, Craig thought distantly, was stronger than any of them.

 

Almost reverently he kissed down the length of Kenny’s body, jumping from freckle to freckle as he made his way lower. In another life, another situation, this might have been considered sexy. In fact, it very easily could have been something Kenny begged him for. But here and now, there was no begging, no enjoyment, not even love behind the actions of intimacy.

 

Craig’s chest felt hollow as his thumb brushed the tip of Kenny’s cock. Kenny’s hips only barely twitched upwards, exhaustion and agony laying thick over his near childlike features. Craig remembered the days when he could see life in the blue depths of Kenny’s eyes. Remembered how they sparkled as he spoke and danced. He could remember the hurt, the shock, and the fear in them when Kyle turned him over to Craig, promising he wouldn’t tell if Craig also promised not to. He remembered how they were filled with tears for days and weeks after; the hurt and heartbreak flowing out of him until nothing was left. And now, as Craig lifted his hips to press slowly into him, he could see nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not pain, not pleasure, just blank and unfeeling nothingness.

 

 

_I remember everything_

_I remember everything_

_I remember everything_

_Oh_

_You were beautiful then..._

 

 

Kyle watched silently as Craig took Kenny. It was oddly silent, save for the sound of Craig’s hips as the rolled against Kenny’s ass. Kyle’s existence felt muted, he could see, faintly, but everything else felt detached. Almost as though he were floating. Part of him wanted to cry out, to get up, to stop Craig. That’s what he should do, right? That’s what /I/ would do, right? His head rolled sideways a bit as dizziness crashed into him. Why did he feel so strange? In a way, he almost felt like laughing. The old Kyle, he realized, the one that valued justice and righteousness and wanted Kenny safe more than anything had died the day he set the first fire. And this, this burnt out shell, this was him now.

 

From within his haze, he saw the glimmering metal of a gun being pulled out from the belt of Craig’s unzipped jeans. He gazed at it for a second as he thrusted into Kenny, before flipping it in his hand and placing the barrel lightly against the clammy skin of Kenny’s forehead. For one split second, Kyle wanted to cry out again. This was wrong. This was wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong. But in the end, he thought, I suppose it is the most right we’ll ever get again.

 

Just as Craig reached his climax, he pressed his face into the back of Kenny’s hair, breathing in his scent one final time. His finger jerked on the trigger, twitching along with his orgasm, and the resounding sound and spray of blood tore Kyle from his own body.

 

Upstairs, the sound of sirens and heavy boots and yelling grew louder. Faintly, Kyle thought he could hear the basement door as it slammed against the wall at the top of the stairs. His vision greyed, breathing slowing without his lungs even bothering to beg for air. He was so content, and from now on everything would be okay. No one else could ever be hurt by them again. Not by fire, not by lightning, not by betrayal. Emerald eyes slipped shut, and the last thing Kyle saw was two sets of blue staring back.

 

 

_...And I’m still in too deep._

**Author's Note:**

> Believe it or not, I actually ship these three in a wholesome and genuinely romantic and sweet way most of the time. I just don't know what happened here.


End file.
